Heri wasn't sure if Hagrid was blind or if four-legged owls were just a normal wizarding thing. Judging by the lack of extra appendages on the other owls she saw in the pet shop window, she was guessing not.
She gave the bothersome bird a dead-eyed look, one that it responded to with a cheery chuff. There was no question as to what bird this was despite the fact that instead of the nightmare-inducing Great Grey it had been the first time they saw each other, it was currently a cuddly Snowy; the golden beak and extra legs gave it away. The only questions now were why no one else seemed to notice the oddness of the owl, and how in the nine circles of Dante's Inferno had it managed to be in that particular pet shop and gotten itself purchased by the exact person meaning to buy a pet for Heri.
"D'ye . . ." said Hagrid hesitantly. "D'ye not like it then?"
He sounded disappointed.
Heri shook her head and craned her head back to look at him earnestly. It would not do to hurt the kindest person she had ever met.
"It's not that at all, sir! I was just shocked that you got me exactly what I've been wanting to get since we got here! How did you know I wanted an owl, sir? It even looks exactly like how I imagined!"
The owl puffed up importantly as Hagrid beamed. As Hagrid went on about the uses of owls and the handling of them, Heri shot it an oppressive look which it ignored by preening its wings haughtily. Cheeky thing; they were going to have a talk when she found the time, preferably when she wouldn't burn Hagrid's ears with the scolding she was planning on giving it.
Since Hagrid had found them hiding out on that rock in the middle of the sea, Heri had found herself tossed up into another whirlwind of the phantasmagoria that was apparently inherent to her reality. She had tried to be disbelieving when presented with the existence of magic — especially when her aunt and uncle were all but frothing at the mouth to deny any such thing — but really, discovering that there was a global population of people as reality-distorting as herself was ultimately unsurprising despite how relieving it was. Heri liked to be different, but she hadn't really thought she was the only one in the world with her powers; it was statistically improbable. When she was convinced Hagrid was not another monster aiming to do her in, Heri easily allowed him to introduce her to the world she had been born into.
Diagon Alley was every vivid dream, every unabashed noise, every unapologetic eccentricity Heri had never allowed herself to indulge in. It was all bright colours and unending movement, singular modes of dressing and unembarrassed personality. It was as if every misfit in the country was gathered for a convention to celebrate the unusual. Taking in the untroubled outspokenness of the people carrying on, Heri understood why her relatives were so against magic. To the neurotically 'normal' like the Dursleys, wizards represented everything they despised; they were plainly outcasts and comfortable with being so. Nothing was more unnerving to the unbendingly conventional than unashamed oddballs!
The two of them had done a run of the shops as soon as Heri had gotten money from Gringotts. She had nearly swooned at the sight of all those coins and had all but walked on air as they bought school supplies. She had never had enough money to buy anything bigger than a deluxe pack of notebooks before and she was thrilled by being able to get cool things like equipment to make potions and books on doing magic.
Heri had just come out of Ollivander's wand shop with her new wand. ("Holly and Phoenix feather, a volatile combination," Mr Ollivander had said. "That the handle is made of pomegranate makes me wonder what sort of greatness will be wrought at your hand.") A wand had been the last thing on her shopping list and she had to admit that she was relieved to be finished despite the fact that it had been a marvellous way to spend the day. Hagrid and she had been headed for dinner when he popped into Eeylops' Owl Emporium to buy Heri a birthday present. Now she was having a stare-down with the nerviest bird likely in existence.
"We ought to get a good, fillin' meal at the Leaky Cauldron," said Hagrid, leading Heri toward the way they had originally entered the shopping district. He seemed to take the staring contest between owl and owner as a bonding exercise. "Not as fancy as what we could get down Vertic but I reckon it's a bit homier."
"That sounds wonderful," Heri replied. Her eyes had yet to leave the owl's.
"Aye, no place more down to earth'n the Leaky. What're yeh gon' name yer owl then?"
Heri did not look up.
"I'll have to think about it. Something that suits its personality of course."
Heri glanced up from the History of Magic book she had been flipping through after the third time she had read it through.
"How about Irmintrude? Or maybe Umbertio?"
If birds could look incredulous, the shapeshifting bird had the expression nailed.
Heri had been confined to her room since she had returned to Privet Drive and there was little else for her to do besides reading her textbooks. After immersing herself in the feats of the witches and wizards of her History text, she decided that the book would be an excellent place to find a name for her owl. For the past ten minutes, she had tossed out names that she thought really communicated how she perceived the cheeky creature.
"No? How do you feel about Englegaard? Englegaard the Physician discovered the possibility of substituting avocado for chicken fat in weight-gain potions. Apparently, it was hard to get a hold of avocado back then and chicken fat was the best thing ever before sliced bread."
The owl barked reproachfully.
"Tch, so picky!" Heri flicked back a few pages. "How about Herderpicus? He's the reason why modern wand-safety regulations recommend not putting your wand down your shorts."
An affronted gurgling sound.